Thank you for taking the time to reply yet again, Anita. I took some time to process what you wrote…

I’m not sure if I wholly agree with your take. I do not feel that I would walk away if she became ready to have a full relationship with me. I worked with my counselor last year on building connections with people—to really let them in. My meeting my coworker happened at the culmination of that work. I’ve been open with her about my counseling, which I rarely did before, and explained that I try to be both open and vulnerable with her even though it is not easy for me.

I tried to explain my one of my fears last weekend to her: I was worried that she would interpret my interest in her as desperation since I, like many others, spent most of 2020 in isolation. That I suddenly meet a beautiful and intelligent woman and jump in with both feet simply because she is there in front of me. Those are certainly qualities that deepen my interest in her, but I just feel this rare connection to her that I cannot explain. It’s both a comfort and a mystery.

What I believe causes me to want to run is not so much the fear of “forming and maintaining a strong emotional connection with another person,” but rather I do not know if she wants to do the same with me. Perhaps that is a selfish, impatient approach or perhaps an emotional immaturity on my part. We have only known each other since mid-November and had that first “date” on Nov 24th, so conceivably I want things to move faster than they naturally should. We had such a great first “date” and we continue to spend time together as friends, but I wonder if she’ll ever open the curtain and let me see her on a deeper level? Perhaps our mini vacation last weekend permitted her to feel a bit more freedom. To allow her to cut loose and embrace intimacy and closeness with someone she trusts. And when we returned home and reality set in, she had to erect those walls again to keep herself safe.

I was speaking with one of my best friends the other day and he said something insightful: In nearly all my previous relationships, while there was a mutual attraction and interest, it was always my partner that was more invested in seeing the long-term potential of the relationship. They pushed for more—a deeper connection—while I was comfortable with the companionship. In essence, they wanted me more than I wanted them. And now, with my coworker, the roles are reversed. I pine for her, while she is content in the present.

She, like all of us, battles her own demons. She too attends counseling and sees it in a positive light as we all should. She was married for a few years and has only been divorced for a year now. Prior to that she dated someone for a few years who ended up addicted to meth and she left him. (That is par for the course here in this part of the country.) While she was married, she battled a type of anorexia that nearly killed her when her liver shut down. This February marks two years since she found the mental strength to begin eating normally and not working out so intensely. She just bought a pole to begin pole dance training, as she worried that moving too quickly back into exercise would cause her to regress and relapse, so she decided to do a fun exercise that she hadn’t before. Her father is a recover(ing/ed) alcoholic who hasn’t touched alcohol in 15 years. However, she drinks more than she should (in my humble opinion) and having a second job at a brewery doesn’t help matters. She was a smoker but has vaped for a few years now, which is not inherently any healthier but at least it smells better? So, she isn’t perfect but who is?

Maybe her vices and struggles would eventually cause me to want to walk away. I have never smoked, only drink on occasion, and have never battled something like anorexia. Yet, there is something inherently intriguing about her that I cannot identify. Something I felt from the first time we hung out. She has always approached me with integrity. She is always kind and always made time to see me every week She never cancels a “date” at the last minute. So far, there’s never any drama or stress.

Perhaps acceptance is what I need to work on? As my counselor said, maybe friendship is all this will ever be and that can be a great thing. The physical intimacy of kisses and touches may be a misstep on the road to a deeper friendship, which is difficult because there feels like such a mutual hunger and passion there. There also is the fear of asking for too much in the fear that it will cause this relationship to devolve into something even more casual and surface level. As I said, I want to know more of her and have a richer relationship with her, and the fears she may have keep her from allowing me to get close. While she has largely been an open book from the start, there are many chapters missing and I am curious to read them.

Dear Anita,

Thank you for replying… I just got home from a “date” with her. We talked about things and she doesn’t see a longterm future with us. I’m tired and sad, and will write more tomorrow.

Ryan

Dear Anita,

Last night was a hot mess but in a good way. We went out for drinks and dinner and we were talking about self-esteem issues. Eventually I steered the conversation to us and if she saw a future with us. I feared what I thought was true, as she looked down at the table, and said that she didn’t see anything long-term with me. We chatted for about 45-mins, and I actually cried at times and she grabbed my hand a few times to hold it. (The drinks had tequila so that certainly made things tougher for me to conceal, which is a good thing.)

I had a rather restless, sleepless night after I dropped her off, so I called her this morning before work. We chatted for about 30-minutes. I said that there is something about her that I rarely feel for another woman, but that I need to cut the strings that I was building towards something more. I said that want to be her friend, to which she expressed relief, but that it’s going to take time for me to adjust. I asked her if there was anything specific about me that caused her to know that I wasn’t a long-term partner. She said that there was nothing specific, but she just knew that I wasn’t a life partner for her. She had been married before for a few years and realized it after it was too late, and didn’t want to repeat that experience–even though they remain close friends.

She did thank me for opening up and actually talking to her about this. She said that with her past experiences in relationships, her partner often does not react in a mature, respectful manner–which is what caused her some trepidation in approaching me about her feelings–and that she was relieved that we could talk like adults. She also said that our relationship helped her realize what she wants and deserves in a relationship: That there exist better caliber men in this world and that she needs to wait for me and not accept anything less.

Does it still sting? Obviously. At the same time, I have been in her shoes so many times, so this allows me to empathize more with the women I often waited too long to tell them I did not see a future together. Also, it’s better that we talked now before either time went by and I became more frustrated with the relationship, or sex possibly happened, and this caused her to form an attachment that she regretted.

And as I said before, while she is a beautiful person with a remarkably beautiful soul, who is wise beyond her years, there were red flags that I tried to ignore: The smoking/vaping, the excessive drinking, and whatever “rotten pieces” she said that she fears sharing with me. I took wanted a love story but this was not to be.

Hi Anita,

Yes, it was a slip of the fingers.”That there exist better caliber men in this world and that she needs to wait for him and not accept anything less.”

And, yes, she feels grateful to have met me, as it helped her to appreciate that there are more emotionally mature menu, and that she needs to wait to find one who can have a conversation about difficult topics without it regressing into a shouting match. Sadly, she isn’t sure if those type of men exist here. (I am merely a transplant to this area.)

Finally, it is liberating to know what her heart feels (or does not feel). It took a great deal (and some alcohol) to have me ask her–when I feared what the answer would be–but better I know now rather than continue the dance.

I’m working on an email to her to thank her and to let her know what a positive influence she has been to me these past few months. It isn’t a pleading email but more of a thank you.

Ryan

Morning Anita,

I ended up emailing her last night (and borrowed a bit of your language)… Felt a bit silly about it before I sent it. I thought, “I’ve only known this girl since mid-November. We were hardly what anyone would describe as ‘dating’. Why bother?” But, I felt something–even if I misread her and she did not–and thought I’d say say what I felt. I’ve included my email below:

I’ve written and erased this a few times. I put too much credence into your reaction rather than just getting the words out. This is going to be a stream of consciousness email, so it may not be the most coherent; however, I just wanted to say what I was not able to articulate in person…

Firstly, thank you for being honest with me last night, and more importantly, with yourself. It was not an easy subject to broach, as I feared that I knew what your answer to be. I wish your truth was different, but it is what it is. I am grateful that you were honest with me and didn’t feel the need to dance around your truth, as I did not want to continue slipping into the unknown.

When you pictured your life with me, you may have visualized it as a friend that you have a relationship with. A life with me could possibly tend to not be one that excites you or lends to lassitude. You may have been content with me, but I would not compliment you. I wouldn’t be that “soulmate” that gives you butterflies and makes your heart skip. It may have been good or great for a few years, but it may have ultimately been fruitless. We may have gotten caught up in our lives, our routines, and years have passed before you (or even I) may have walked away. It was better to have the realization now rather than have you compromise your heart and your months or years of your time. Life with me may not have been easy. I still battle depression and will continue to do so until my days are over. I long for a companion in life but fear the loneliness when one of us is gone. I struggle with seeing the goodness in the world and believing better days are ahead for us as a species. I am often frustrated and irritable and only want the next day to arrive to restart. We are similar in many ways as we’ve discussed, and those similarities may have doomed us regardless of any emotional ties that would have bound us.

As much as I desired the love story, my intense work on myself last year, and our brief, rather undefined relationship, helped me grow in many ways. A year ago, I had not yet evolved into the more emotionally mature man that I am now. I was comfortable keeping those walls up, even though those walls hurt more than they helped—hurt both myself and those I let close. I mentioned last night that the pandemic and this time alone was difficult, but the loneliness forced me to confront myself and my shortcomings and to work hard on them. It was difficult emotionally (and financially), but it was necessary. When I saw you across the floor at the office back in January, yes, I was enthralled by your eyes and your beautiful smile. (Yes, I did look at your butt too but I’m trying to be respectful here.) However, had I asked you out then, and if you were truly in a place in your life to be emotionally receptive—a place you simply were not at the time—I do not think our first “date” would have gone as well as I did. I would have kept my walls up. I would have been more self-deferential and less vulnerable. You would not have known how captivated and charmed I was. I would have latched onto superficial “faults” and not allow myself to let you get close. This, as what I believe was the first date for both of us in 2020, would have led you to believe that I was just another emotionally unavailable man. Rinse and repeat.

Last night was not my finest moment. It was me vulnerable and stripped bare. The tears were not so much the loss of you, as I never really had a relationship with you to begin with. Yes, I felt like something may be budding but it was more only wishful thinking on my part. The tears were more so the weight of 2020 melting away. The new job in the new town far away from everything. Finishing grad school. The mandatory telework in March. The loneliness and isolation. A job that was much less than I had expected. The regrets and longing. The hours of counseling and the work it entails. The incessant, cyclical grind of work without the release. Starting back to the gym last fall. Encountering the same type of people every time I ventured out. Traveling solo across Appalachia to force myself out of the apartment on long weekends. It all came to a crescendo last night. But I was grateful you were a part of it—and accepted and encouraged it. You touching my hand at the restaurant, and holding me in your arms at your apartment, in an attempt to assuage me was beautiful (if not endearing).

And that rawness last night that simply would not have happened a year ago. I worked weekly with my counselor to be more open, more vulnerable, to practice emotional intimacy, and not be afraid to let the other person see the real me. (That is why I asked you this morning if it felt like you saw the “real me” and it caused you to flee.) A year ago, my self-esteem would have seen the loss of a potential relationship with you as a fault with me. I would have battled my ego to convince myself I was somehow not good enough for you. I would have seen myself as not handsome enough, or not masculine enough, or not smart enough, or some other silly attribute. However, our lengthy conversations these past months—and your head on my chest in the bed at the cabin, or your hand wrapped around my arm as we drove to the cabin and back—solidified that I was a strong, attractive man and someone you enjoyed your time with. Someone you enjoyed giving a part of your time to. Someone strong and handsome. I just am not the one for you.

I recall stammering something last night about how good our sex would have been. What I mean is, in past relationships, sex was the aspect of the relationship I was best at. I had several partners tell me that sex was the only time I let my guard down and they saw the real me. The intimacy of the physical act allowed me to open up on an emotional level—which is good in a way but also detrimental. Sex allowed me to block out everything in my mind and focus solely on my partner. I allowed myself to feel unencumbered and uninhibited, and my partners fed off that and allowed themselves to be free as well. Which, of course, fed my ego as I was able to do things to my partners that others had not. While I feel, at least for myself, sex with you would have been vastly different in a positive way, it ultimately would have clouded things for the both of us. I would have felt unshackled since I was able to be emotionally intimate with you outside of the bed, but you may have attached to me on a level that veiled those feelings (or lack of feelings) that needed to be addressed.

In you, I found someone I could be intimate with, without the need to strip off our clothes. Yes, I worked my ass off in counseling to get there, but there is just something about you I connect with on a deeper level, even though you’ve only shown me a piece of you. Since that first “date” at the cocktail bar, this brief relationship has been so cathartic for me. I know there’s much we don’t know about one another, and I hope we continue to grow closer as friends. I’m not religious, and not overly spiritual, but there is a reason that I met you when I did. I’d spent so much time on myself, that it would have been wasted on someone less compassionate or someone who too hadn’t worked so hard to better themselves. I’d like to think we both benefited from our time together. At least I’d like to think so.

I tried to articulate this on the phone this morning but permit me to try again. As we have talked about before, we each battle our own demons—I know there are things that you do not like about yourself—but continue working to build your exquisite garden. You are a beautiful woman both on the surface and below. Physically beautiful both in a simplistic, just out of bed, messy hair, and chapped lips way, and in a dressed up, made-up, hair straightened (and maybe curled) sexy way. Emotionally beautiful in your kindness, decency, integrity, and generosity. You are fiercely independent while also longing for a companion on your journey. You are intelligent, hardworking, hilarious and quick-witted, self-deprecating, empathetic, compassionate, mysterious, and enthralling. Yes, I know there are parts of you I do not know. Pieces you feared to show me. However, I cannot believe the bad outweighs the good.

And, yes, I began to feel those romantic sentiments. Began to feel a love story of something beautiful that continued to ripen over time. Began to visualize traveling the world together, and maybe finding a plot of land somewhere and settling down. But it was not to be, as you didn’t feel that same “spark.” And that is okay!! And while you do not feel as I did, having connected with you and spending these few months getting to know you, is an experience I would have regretted missing out on. You have been a rarity in my life, and we met at a time where I am emotionally mature enough to appreciate you beyond the cursory. Knowing we won’t have some sort of romantic love story does ache, but I will cut those strings that I began to tie to you, and those whims and feelings will fade in time. Losing them won’t change how much I care about you. It just means that I’ll care about you on a different level. And maybe, in time, we can develop something deeper, and more meaningful, as friends. You’re by no means perfect, as we are all imperfect, but you are (as you said) an old soul and I’m happy that the universe allowed me to cross paths with you. I have strived to be the least stressful piece of your life and hope that I can continue to compliment your life.

Never forget that you are worthy of what you desire. You deserve to be loved and revered. Deserve to find a partner who is that missing puzzle piece. One you don’t have to pound into place to make fit into your life. One who doesn’t force you to lose the freedom of who you really are. One who dances with you in the kitchen as you cook. One who you believe is worth the risk.

Okay, well, this certainly isn’t an email I’d normally write. In my head, it sounds sappy and emasculating but fuck it. This is the thinking of my old self. Thank you for being you. You were certainly unexpected and unanticipated, and life had certainly been sweeter with you in it.

You need not reply. I’ll be here if you’d like to spend some time together.

I do not know if she will reply, or even call/text to say anything about the email. I do now know if she indeed felt anything substantial towards me, or if she was scared of leading me on, or if she simply enjoyed the brief friendship, and when things got a bit more serious, she felt the need to pull back? As I said, I’ve only known her for a bit over 2 months, so did I really know her? Maybe I was just smitten/enthralled with someone new after being socially isolated for most of 2020? I feel that perhaps I jumped in too quickly. I went from largely isolated to meeting her for a hike, the first “date,” to calling each other often doing work hours. Granted, we only went out about once a week, so it’s not as though we were overly steady in our physical interactions. And she grew up in the area–has a strong support group of friends and family–so I was only a minor, temporary part of her life.

We still work together–albeit remotely–so I will clearly keep things professional. We work in the same office, but hold different jobs, so our paths do not often cross (with the exception of the weekly office video meeting. I know anything longings or sadness will diminish in time. But, blah, I do despise this feeling.

Hopefully I will find a job more fulfilling soon and that aspect of life can improve.

Ryan